Heads Up
by Berzerkerprime
Summary: ... or The Many Head Injuries of Kanan Jarrus. Anyone else ever notice how often Kanan gets whacked in the head and then is perfectly fine a couple minutes later, even to the point of being able to fight the duel of his life? No. No, no, no. The Force and adrenaline can only go so far. Time for a little pointless, Jedi-whumping gap-filler.
1. Rise of the Old Masters

Chapter One: Rise of the Old Masters

Ezra had been practicing with Kanan for well over an hour when the sun was beginning to set on their little patch on Lothal. After a good long while of practicing deflection, using form five, they had moved on to the first of a series of katas for form three. Kanan was perched on the cargo ramp of the _Ghost_ , watching Ezra move with the lightsaber in hand. For the first time, Ezra didn't feel like he needed to impress the Jedi. For the first time, he didn't feel judged or frustrated or even held at arm's length.

It sure made focusing a lot easier.

For the first time since he had begun training with Kanan, Ezra felt the Force like a warm blanket around him rather than an intruding presence. He was able to float atop of it in a way he never had before and he found that the motions of the lightsaber came to him naturally.

Ezra stole another look at his Master as he continued on with the kata. Kanan had his eyes closed and at first Ezra thought he was observing some facet of the Force rather than his physical moves. But then he noticed a little bit of a furrow to Kanan's brow. He opened his eyes, cautiously, and squinted against the setting sun. This seemed to be uncomfortable and he closed his eyes again, rubbing the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger.

"You okay, Kanan?" Ezra asked, bringing his motion to a halt and deactivating the lightsaber. Playing a hunch, Ezra placed himself so that his shadow fell over Kanan's eyes.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Ezra," Kanan said without looking up, "I guess it's just been a longer day than I thought."

"Headache?"

"Yeah," Kanan replied, working some tension out of his neck muscles, "probably just from the stress of everything."

"Not surprising," Ezra said, handing Kanan the lightsaber, "Master Unduli is alive, then she's still dead after all, then there's a creepy, crazy guy after us..."

"Guess it's all catching up," Kanan agreed, "maybe we should call it a day."

"Besides, I think I smell grub coming on," Ezra agreed.

As if on cue, Zeb stuck his head out the cargo hatch and bellowed their names at the top of his lungs before he realized they were right there. Kanan's face twisted up as if something was drilling into his temples.

"Oh, you're already here," the Lasat said in a more reasonable tone, "Soup's on! Hera says you two better wash up first." Zeb then retreated back into the ship before either of them could respond.

Kanan looked green at the mere mention of food. He stood up and, impossibly, seemed to turn even greener. If Ezra hadn't been watching, he wouldn't have noticed the slight sway in Kanan's step.

"Say," Ezra ventured carefully as they began to make their way into the ship, "you took a pretty good hit when the Inquisitor threw you. You were pretty slow to get up."

Kanan gave a sigh and rolled his eyes, a motion that did nothing for his complexion. "It's just a headache, Ezra," he said, "I already took something for it."

"It doesn't look like it's helping," Ezra commented, "what'd you take?"

"That stuff I always take, that Hera keeps in the red bottle," Kanan replied, with a dismissing wave of his hand, "I'm sure it'll kick in any time now."

"You know Hera keeps the anti-inflammatories in the red bottle, right?"

"Yeah. So?"

"And are you better or worse since taking them?"

"What are you, my doctor all of a sudden?" Kanan shot back, reaching for the ladder that went up to the common area.

Ezra reached out and put a hand over the one that Kanan had resting on the ladder rung, halting their progress toward the upper levels. "You're not having a headache, Kanan. It's a migraine."

"No it's not," Kanan replied, sounding sour, "I don't get migraines." He moved to start up the ladder, but Ezra pushed him back down again.

"But it's not uncommon for people to get them after getting knocked in the head _really_ hard," the boy stated, somewhat smugly, "kinda... like you were?"

"Ezra," Kanan groused, "I'm fine."

"Light and sound sensitivity," Ezra stated, "the mere mention of food turned you as green as Hera, and I'm _betting_... you're seeing stars on the outside of your vision."

Kanan gave a resigned sigh and let go of the ladder, leaning back against the bulkhead. "They keep zipping in and out like drizi flies," he said, "okay, so it's a migraine. But like I said, I took something already."

"Yeah," Ezra said with a note of skepticism, "anti-inflammatories, which in some people make migraines worse."

Kanan let out a frustrated moan, looking toward the ceiling. "Great," he said, "fantastic. Now I _really_ don't want to go up to dinner."

"Wait a minute," Ezra said, giving his Master a sidelong-look and lowering his voice, "you didn't tell Hera you got hit in the head, did you?"

"Shhh!" he exclaimed, putting his hands out in front of him. "She'll go into mommy mode and obsess about it for days," he said, "and I need her focusing on the ship for right now."

"Whatever you say, Spector One," Ezra replied, tossing a two-fingered salute off of his forehead, "but you _know_ she'll be pissed when she finds out."

" _If_ she finds out," Kanan shot back, pointedly.

Ezra gave a casual shrug. "Whatever you say. You've known her a lot longer than I have, so I guess you _must_ be right."

"Sarcasm is the recourse of a weak mind."

"Of _course_ it is, Master."

* * *

Somehow, Kanan managed to keep down some dinner, though it wasn't nearly as much as he would normally eat just after an op. Dutifully, Ezra ran interference with the others during the meal, directing their attention off of the uncharacteristically quiet and slowly eating Kanan. That didn't stop Zeb and Sabine from their usual antics and today they had a lot of stories to share, filling Hera in on what she had missed on the op. Loudly.

"So then, Sabine says," Zeb said around a chuckle, "she holds up a grenade and says."

"One last miracle!" Sabine put in.

"And then she tosses the thing at the troopers," Zeb continued without missing a beat, still laughing, "and the dumb bucket-heads just look at it rolling on the ground until it blows up in their faces!" Dissolving into riotous laughter, Zeb brought his hands down on the table top, setting the dishes rattling.

Ezra noted a wince from Kanan at the same time and joined in the laughter. "Yeah, that was pretty great," he said, "so, Kanan, you were mentioning something about a variation on that kata, right? Something you needed to look up?"

Kanan caught on immediately and looked up from the food he had pushed around on his plate. "Oh right, Ezra, right," he said, clearing his throat, "something in the holocron, I think."

"Well, don't leave me hanging," Ezra said standing and pushing away from the table, "let's go take a look."

"Sure!" Kanan said with forced enthusiasm as he got to his feet as well, albeit significantly slower. "Now's as good a time as any."

The two Jedi beat a hasty retreat through to the hallway for the living quarters, letting the door close behind them without waiting for any reaction from the others. There was a long, silent pause in the common room for several seconds.

"What was _that_ about?" Sabine asked.

"You get the feeling they're hiding something?" Zeb put in.

"Oh no," Hera said, wearing a look suggestive of a put-upon mother, "they're not hiding _anything_."

* * *

To be on the safe side, Kanan and Ezra kept up their act until the door to Kanan's quarters slid shut. It was completely unspoken between them and purely a combined effort of self-defense.

With a sigh of relief, Kanan sagged against the inside of the door as Ezra turned the lights on, keeping them low.

"I owe you one, kid," Kanan said, gathering himself up and shuffling toward his bunk only to collapse into it, letting an arm flop over his eyes.

"Yeah ya do!" Ezra replied, careful to keep his voice low. "Do you know what Hera's gonna to do me when she finds out I helped cover for you?"

"If!" Kanan insisted.

Ezra simply shook his head, rolling his eyes skyward. "Just wait here," he said, "I know something that might help. I'll be right back." Poking his head back out the door, Ezra checked the hallway and found it still empty. He zipped down to the fresher and soaked a towel in cold water, grabbed a bottle of pills from the cabinet, then stole back into Kanan's quarters just as quickly with both in hand. As an afterthought, he stopped by the quarters he shared with Zeb and retrieved a small can of a fizzy energy drink that he liked.

"Here," Ezra said, shaking a couple of pills out of the green bottle and handing them to Kanan, "take these, they should help."

"I said I already took something," Kanan protested.

"Yeah, the _wrong_ thing," Ezra said, "just trust me. This is different. It's a cyco... cyto... something-or-other inhibitor. It'll work better." He handed Kanan the energy drink to use to swallow the pills.

Kanan looked at him skeptically. "This is gonna keep me awake for hours," he complained.

"Kanan, take the stupid pills and drink the stupid drink," Ezra muttered, "or would you rather Hera was helping you out instead?"

"You don't play fair," Kanan said, shooting a glare at his Padawan, but taking the proffered medicine and drink anyway. After downing both in one large gulp, he plopped his head back on to his pillow again.

"Here," Ezra said, placing the cool towel over Kanan's eyes. The elder Jedi gave a sigh of relief and Ezra saw some of the tension leave his face. There was a long few minutes of silence between them after that. Ezra settled in on the floor, leaning back against the side of the bunk.

"Ezra," Kanan ventured several minutes later, "where'd you learn all this?"

"My mom," Ezra said after a moment, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. "She would get the worst migraines. As soon as I was old enough to tell one bottle of pills from another, my dad made sure I knew how to take care of her when she had them."

Kanan let that hang in the air for a while before replying. "Well, he taught you well, kid," he said, lifting the cool cloth up and peering at Ezra. The boy looked back at him with a small, crooked smile and found that his master was mirroring it back.

"You should get some rest, Master," he said, "mind if I take the top bunk tonight? I don't think I can face Hera until morning."

Kanan flopped back into his pillow and replaced the cool cloth over his eyes. "Get up there," he said, "just be quiet."

"You got it," Ezra said, vaulting up the ladder and flopping down in the top bunk.

An hour or so later, the door to Kanan's quarters opened just a little bit and Hera looked in. She saw Ezra sacked out on the top bunk, one arm dangling down off the side. Kanan was completely asleep, too, but he had one arm reached upward, grasping on to Ezra's hand. She gave a small smile, then closed the door as quietly as she could.

When she turned back into the hallway, she found Chopper there, looking at her. It made a series of noises and looked for all the world like a petulant child telling on delinquent classmates.

"What?" Hera said, giving the droid a shrug. "I'll yell at them tomorrow."

* * *

D'awww... All floofy and made of warms. I just adore these two. Not since Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan has Star Wars had quite so adorable a pair of Jedi. I'd like to say that The Force Awakens is what got me back into the fandom, but it was these two and this show. I wanna hug them all.

So, seriously. Kanan gets knocked unconscious just about every third episode of the first season. And yet, up he gets and just continues right on. The most egregious of these instances is Fire Across the Galaxy, of course, but I'll get to that. For now, I hope you enjoyed. Please remember to leave a review.

Next up is Gathering Forces which won't be quite as floofy, I promise.


	2. Gathering Forces

Gathering Forces

Silence reigned in the _Phantom_ for several agonizingly long minutes. Neither Master nor Padawan dared to meet the gaze of the other.

They were waiting at the rendez-vous coordinates where they were to meet up with the _Ghost_ after they had finished removing the tracking device. Little had they known how big an impact the little jaunt was going to have. Ezra had succeeded in opening himself to the Force, to the truth. But it had also left him open to the siren call of the dark side.

Kanan's head hurt. Quite a bit, in fact. He wasn't sure how long he had been out after the Inquisitor had thrown him into the junk pile, but it was several minutes at least. In fact, it had only been the cold chill of the dark side emanating from Ezra that had shaken him out of unconsciousness.

Ezra couldn't be blamed, of course. The fault rested entirely on Kanan's shoulders. He had clearly waited too long to teach Ezra about the lure of the dark side and how to resist it. He should have known better! Ezra was fifteen years old and had only been learning the ways of the Jedi for a few months. When Kanan had been younger, when he had been Caleb, he had been taught of the dark side and how to avoid its cold grasp before he had become a Padawan, before he had even finished his initiate trials. But Ezra had been so much older than that before they even met. Not only was Kanan learning how to teach, he was learning how to teach in uncharted waters. And it was Ezra who had suffered for it.

The teen was still shivering, knees drawn up to his chest and arms wrapped around them, still sitting on the fold-out seat that Kanan had deposited him upon. There was still a miserable chill coming off him.

With a guilty sigh, Kanan stood up from his own fold-out seat. He must have stood up a little too fast, because his head swam and the back of his head throbbed where it had forcefully connected with the sheet of scrap metal, earlier. Kanan felt another breath of cold coming from Ezra's direction, so he gathered as much warmth in the Force as he could manage and sent it toward the boy. At the same time, Kanan made his way toward the rear of the _Phantom_ and crouched next to a panel, hidden near the floor. He hadn't opened it in a long time and it was a little stiff to move aside.

From the hidden compartment, Kanan pulled a large length of brown wool. He shook loose some of the dust that settled on it over the years, taking care to make sure that the hood and sleeves were still in good shape.

"Here," he said, draping the cloak over Ezra's shoulders, "this might warm you up a little."

"Whoa," Ezra breathed, putting his arms through the sleeves and pulling it in tight around him, "never seen this before. It's nice. Kinda... familiar... like you, sort of."

"Not surprising," Kanan said with a bit of a sad smile, "it was mine when I was your age." He sat back down in the fold-out seat across from Ezra and reached for the boy's hands. They were still ice cold and he began to rub them to get some warmth into them.

"You wore this when you were a Padawan?" Ezra asked, sounding amazed. "At the Jedi Temple? So it's a real Jedi cloak?"

"Yup," Kanan replied, "I probably shouldn't have kept it, but... I just couldn't let it go, for some reason. So I kept it hidden in here." The back of his head throbbed again and Kanan decided to ignore it. Instead, he gathered the Force into his hands where he was trying to warm Ezra. Everything else began to fade into the background except for that task and the throb in his head. Eventually, he became aware that Ezra had asked a question, but he couldn't understand the words. The cabin of the _Phantom_ began to tilt a little.

The dark side. Ezra had asked about the dark side.

"Anger and hate," Kanan replied. Were his words slurring? "It's cold and... suffering..." He trailed off. Somehow, words just weren't important. They were too much effort. Especially with everything spinning and the damned throb in his head.

"Kanan?" Ezra's voice echoed across a great expanse toward him, a rush of cool air following it. It hit Kanan like a gale-force wind and knocked him off his seat. He felt Ezra's hands catch him, still freezing cold. It sent a jolt through him, assaulting his already aching head. He couldn't help but let out a groan. He vaguely felt Ezra lowering him to the floor, still calling his name. But that was all subsumed by the stabbing cold that was drilling right into him.

Something penetrated the fog and Kanan realized what was happening. He grabbed hold of Ezra's wrists and forced his eyes open, to lock with the teen's deep blue ones.

"You're angry," he breathed, "at the Inquisitor. You have to let it go."

"But he hurt you!" Ezra replied, desperately. "Kanan, your head's bleeding!"

Another stab pressed toward Kanan and he had to close his eyes against it. "Making it worse," he breathed out through clenched teeth, "it's what he wants... what it wants. Focus... focus on solving the problem. Put aside the anger."

He felt the cold recede a little as Ezra nodded at him. "First aid kit," the teen said, getting up and momentarily leaving Kanan's side. While Ezra was digging around in the various storage compartments, Kanan took a moment to focus, himself, gathering the Force around him until warmth returned and the throb in his head faded. Carefully, he pushed himself up off his back and into a sitting position, though he didn't try to leave the floor.

Ezra returned, already dousing a cloth with alcohol. "Here," he said as he lit back on the floor, just over Kanan's shoulder. He pressed the cloth to the offended part of Kanan's scalp and there was a sting as the alcohol did its work. Kanan sucked air in through his teeth, trying to hold still as the world tilted a little.

"Sorry," Ezra said, bashfully. Kanan waved it off, still trying to gather the Force around him to ward off the dizzy spell.

An indicator on the controls and movement out the forward window caught their attention. They both jumped a little, still on edge. But the sight that greeted them was a welcome one.

" _Ghost_ to _Phantom_ ," Hera's voice came over the comm a moment later, "you boys done sight-seeing?"

With a sigh of relief, Kanan grabbed his comm off his belt and keyed it on. "Specter One to _Ghost_ ," he said, "you have no idea how glad we are to see you guys."

"Aww, you miss me, luv?" Hera quipped back.

"Always," Kanan replied, finding a new burst of strength and pushing himself off the floor to make his way to the controls. Ezra refused to get more than a foot or so away from him and Kanan felt a small stab of cold again. Concentrating on not mirroring it back toward his Padawan, Kanan set his attention on the task of docking the _Phantom_ into its spot aboard the _Ghost_.

* * *

He could always relax around Hera. Truth be told, there was no one Kanan trusted more than her, though Ezra was beginning to come close. So it was a relief to be able to just sit with her and talk, away from the others, in his quarters. Tension left his shoulders and he no longer needed to struggle to keep himself together.

"Luv, are you worried that Ezra isn't strong enough for this, or that _you_ aren't?" She asked him, her chin leaning on his shoulder, her right hand covering his left, resting on his knee.

Kanan didn't answer for a moment. Not because he didn't know the answer. He was fishing for the words and it just didn't seem like a very high priority to answer right away. He wondered if Zeb had gotten hold of the stick in the cockpit because it felt like the whole ship was lurching. Then he remembered that he needed to answer.

"I dunno," he admitted, feeling like the words were being breathed out through gravel in his mouth, "gotta figure it out, I guess." The throb in his head returned and he closed his eyes against it, trying and failing to suppress a groan.

Hera's chin left his shoulder and she sat up to look at him. "Kanan? Are you all right?" He words echoed to him across a great expanse and he wasn't sure at first of what he was hearing. The throb intensified again and he felt like he was tipping backward. A moment later, Hera's hands were catching him and keeping him from pitching forward, off the edge of his bunk. "Kanan!" She pressed, as if trying to get his attention.

"Inquisitor," he replied, shaking his head, trying to clear the fog that was rising, "I... I hit my head." Was he tilting backward now? It was hard to say. Hera's face filled his vision and she seemed to be looking intently into his eyes. She was saying something, but he couldn't make it out. Or he couldn't quite understand it. It was hard to tell. He thought he heard Hera say a word that sounded important. Something with a c. But it didn't make any sense.

Everything faded to a cacophony around him, a swirl of color, sound, and sensation. His vision began to go grey around the edges and became narrower in stages. Hera's concerned gaze was the last thing he saw before he no longer had the energy to hold back oblivion.

* * *

The next thing Kanan was aware of was a feeling of heaviness in his arms. It creeped upward and made his shoulders ache. Something was pressing on his chest and around his face. And something, he couldn't quite tell what, was happening in the back of his head. He gave a soft groan of protest.

"Kanan?" he heard a voice only a couple feet from his face. A hand clasped around one of his limply dangling ones. "Kanan, it's okay, you can wake up."

Slowly, Kanan forced his eyes open. At first he thought that black was still creeping in on the edges of his vision, but as the images came into focus, he realized that it was his hair, loose and hanging down around his face. He looked past it and there saw the face of his apprentice, upside down from his point of view, backed up against the metal floor of the _Ghost_ 's common room. Kanan was staring down at him from the middle of a padded ring that was holding his head up, in line with the rest of the padded table he was laying on top of. Slowly, he became aware that the odd sensation at the back of his head was a strange tugging, like something being pulled through the skin of his scalp, though he didn't feel any pain from it.

"Wha' happened?" He asked.

"You passed out," Ezra answered, "Hera was freaking out."

"Hit your head pretty good, it seems" Hera's voice came from behind him, above him, "needed a few stitches and you've got a concussion. I'm just about done, so hold still."

"How long have you been laying on the floor watching me?" Kanan asked Ezra.

"Uhm... about an hour?" The youth ventured. "How are you feeling?"

"Like someone dropped something heavy and cold on my head," Kanan replied, somewhat dreamily, "like Hoth, maybe."

"Yeah, you'll probably have a headache or two over the next few days," Hera said, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. Kanan resisted the urge to lean toward it. "I'm finished. You ready to sit up?"

"Yeah," he replied after a moment's consideration.

Hera was next to him a moment later, letting him lean into her as she helped him to sit up. Ezra popped up from the floor and made for the cabinet where the first aid supplies were. He shook a couple of tablets from a bottle - _not_ the red one, Kanan absently noticed - and handed them to Kanan along with a glass of water. Kanan downed them gratefully.

"I'm not sure how you got us back to the _Ghost_ ," said Ezra, "I guess you were pretty messed up."

"Adrenaline can do some pretty amazing things," Kanan replied, "plus, the Force probably helped a little." Unconsciously, he began to rub at the back of his head, still numb from the local anesthetic Hera had used.

The Twi'lek swatted his hand away. "Don't pick at it," she scolded.

With nothing else to do with his hands, he reached for the brown wool cloak that was hanging from his shoulders. It was a full three seconds before he realized what it was. It had been a long time since he had worn the cloak. The last time, it had brushed the ground. Now he would be lucky if it reached the backs of his calves. He looked askance at Ezra.

"I thought you might need it a bit more than I did," the teen explained, self-consciously running a hand through his hair. Kanan gave a smile of thanks at him as he hopped up and sat on the table next to his Master. "I... I was really scared, Kanan."

"I know," Kanan replied, gently, "I was too. There are ways to work past it. Ways that don't give in to hate and revenge. We'll start working on that together." He ruffled Ezra's hair. "But... tomorrow when my head doesn't hurt."

Ezra didn't reply. He just latched on to Kanan around his chest and buried his head in the Jedi's shoulder. Kanan wrapped part of the cloak around Ezra's shoulder. Hera placed both her hands on Kanan's other shoulder and leaned in to brush her cheek against his.

The three of them stayed like that for a while, not saying anything. Just feeling warm.

* * *

I was gonna wait a few days before I posted this, but I just couldn't wait. Got the space-mom in on the action, this time. :-)

Next up is Fire Across the Galaxy, which is going to take a little longer, since I don't have it finished yet.

Specter 13: Ooh! I hadn't thought about taking prompts. I was gonna stick to gap-filling. But that's gold, so I might just rethink!

Rebels-lover: Oh no, they're going to remember this. This is firmly in my head-canon. :-)

Midnight Luna: Glad you liked it! I try to keep the feel of the original series as much as I can.

Starlight Moon Midnight: Yup, that's me! Bowing to the obvious! LOL What can I say? I'm in touch with my inner fangirl. Hope this chapter didn't get too un-cute.

That's all for now, everyone! Thanks for reading and for all the reviews!


	3. Fire Across the Galaxy

Home. Her whole family was home again. _Whole_ again.

It wasn't until Hera had held Kanan in her arms and they all stood back on board the _Ghost_ that she felt that feeling of completeness that had been taken from her along with Kanan. She wanted nothing more than to cling to her family, hold them all together with her arms. But the presence of Fulcrum - Ahsoka, she reminded herself - and her entourage, for lack of a better word, made that difficult.

It was a while before they were able to tear themselves away from Senator Organa, or more accurately, his hologram. Mercifully, Ahsoka herded the rest of the rebel officials out of the _Ghost_ after that to allow them some space. Hera could tell that Ahsoka could sense that the family needed some time to themselves. And even though the Togruta was following them to the common room, Hera nodded a thank you to her as she sidled up next to Kanan, whose exhaustion was clearly catching up with him. He put an arm around her shoulder, giving her that silly star-crossed look she could never resist. Even so, she could feel him leaning on her just a little more than she knew he would admit.

"Ahsoka Tano," Kanan mused aloud as they all entered the common room, "I know that name. You were Anankin Skywalker's apprentice, the one that left the order after..."

Ahsoka turned back and raised an eyebrow at Kanan, clearly communicating that she didn't want it brought up at this particular moment.

"Uh, anyway," Kanan fumbled on as heavily dropped down into the booth, right on the end of the bench, "after all that, everyone figured you were going to be made a Knight. Why did you leave?"

"The Jedi Order was no longer my home," she replied, "I no longer felt as though it was where I belonged. I suppose now I know why that was my path."

"Wait," Ezra said, perching himself on the upright back of the booth, as close to Kanan as Hera was going to let him, "you're a Jedi? That's... it's... I don't even have words!"

"No," Ahsoka said, shaking her head, "not really. After I left, I never claimed to be a Jedi. And, I suppose, that gave me just enough room to move and stay out of sight of the Empire. But I do still live by the order's teachings."

"I'm just glad to know that someone else from those days survived," Kanan said, settling his head back against the seat and closing his eyes dreamily. "I didn't run for nothing. Thank the Force." Hera placed a hand on Kanan's shoulder, sensing a curiously intense release of emotion from him. He settled into the seat a little further, rubbing what was obviously a sore spot near his ribs and trying to suppress a hitch in his breathing. She didn't like the way that looked.

Zeb gave an impressed chuckle as he plunked himself into the corner seat. "Jedi or not, I'm just glad you're on our side," he said, cracking his knuckles, "a little more Force power can't ever hurt."

"Zeb!" Sabine exclaimed, giving the Lasat's shoulder a whack, "she's a person, not a weapon!"

"Hey!" Zeb shot back, rubbing the offended shoulder. "It's how I show my affection!"

"So that's why you're always a jerk," Ezra put in.

Zeb made a sour face and crossed his arms over his chest. "Oh sure, suddenly it's pick on the purple guy day."

"It's okay, Zeb," Hera said, "we know you love us."

Ahsoka gave a small laugh at the whole group. "Hera was right," she said, "you _are_ a family. I'm glad you were able to put it back together again. But there is something that we need to address." Her tone sobered and her gaze settled back on Kanan.

Hera knew what was coming next and she wasn't looking forward to it. Kanan had been through enough as it was and needed time. "Maybe we could wait until Kanan's had some rest," she ventured.

"No," Kanan said, sitting up and leaning on the dejarik table, "she's right. It does need to be addressed."

"I assume they tried a mind probe droid?" Ahsoka asked.

Kanan nodded, gravely. "Pumped me full of so many psychotropics I lost track of time. I'm not even sure how long it's been, to be honest."

"Four days," Hera supplied, "four long, awful days."

"It didn't work, of course," Kanan continued, "not sure how, but that training managed to stick from the old days. It didn't get them anywhere."

"Wait, what are we talking about?" Ezra asked, suspiciously. Zeb and Sabine also seemed to perk up to attention, looking a little defensive.

Ahsoka paused before continuing, clearly trying to tread carefully. "As glad as we are to have him back, Kanan was in the Empire's hands for four days. It's only natural that they would have interrogated him. Senator Organa asked me to find out how that went."

"So, what, you think he spilled?" Ezra said, jumping down from the back of the booth, placing himself between Ahsoka and his master, protectively. His voice began to pitch louder. "You think he gave us up, is that it?"

"Ezra," Kanan began, "it's all right."

"No it's not, Kanan," the teen pressed, "she doesn't understand. You'd never-"

"Ezra, now is not the time," Kanan said more sternly.

"I can't just stand here and let her accuse you of-"

"Ezra, stop!" Kanan shouted, shooting to his feet. "They need to know what happened just in case..." He wobbled slightly on his feet, trailing off. "In case..." He seemed to be searching for his words and losing his breath. Then, all at once, he grasped on to his side and gave a groan and his legs gave way beneath him. Everyone clustered in around him in concern and there was a plethora of hands to keep him from falling further. "Sorry," he mumbled, shaking his head as if he was trying to clear a fog, "I... I can't..."

It was Ahsoka who caught and commanded his hazy stare. "It's all right," she said, gently, "later. You need to get some rest and heal." She placed a hand on one side of his face and a moment later Kanan's eyes slowly closed and he went limp, falling forward into Hera and Ezra's grasp. Gently, they lowered him the rest of the way to the floor. He continued to mumble incoherently, but did not wake. Ahsoka's hand rested on his forehead and she gave a sigh. "He has a fever," she said a moment later, "and probably other injuries."

"Putting it mildly," Ezra bit back, "you didn't see the room they had him in."

"Ezra," Hera admonished and the teen immediately bit his lower lip and turned his concern back to Kanan.

"The Phoenix group's command ship has medical facilities that can help," Ahsoka said, getting to her feet again and making for the door, "I'll go let them know."

As soon as Ahsoka had disappeared down the ladder into the cargo hold, Ezra made a disgruntled sound. "Where does _she_ get off?"

Hera sympathized. She didn't like the idea of anyone questioning Kanan's loyalty, his resolve, his will. But she knew that it wasn't a question of that, or at least she told herself she knew. It was practicality and Hera understood that. The rebels needed to know what information, if any, Kanan may have let slip, even unintentionally. And she knew Kanan understood this, too.

"It's complicated, Ezra," she said to the boy, gently, "I understand you're upset, but Ahsoka is just doing what needs to be done. She doesn't mean anything by it. But it's tabled for now. We'll get back to this when we've taken care of Kanan. He's the priority right now."

Ezra sighed in resignation, his hot attitude in defense of his master beginning to cool. "You're right," he said, then gave a crooked smile at Hera, "you usually are." He grasped on to one of Kanan's loose hands, focusing his attention on the Jedi once again. Kanan was stirring in some kind of fever dream and was muttering something he couldn't quite make out. "I don't get it," he said, "when he was fighting the Inquisitor, he was amazing. I've never seen him fight like that before. I've never seen _anyone_ fight like that before. Now he's the worst I've ever seen him."

"It was a battle fury," Zeb side, kneeling down closer, an uncharacteristically deep look on his face, "I've seen it before. A warrior gets so focused on the fight that they can ignore anything that happens to their body and just keep going. On Lasan, I saw a fellow Guardsman loose an arm and keep going like nothing was wrong. But there's always a fall afterward. And it's usually a pretty steep one."

Hera looked at Zeb for a long moment. Sometimes, it was hard to forget that behind the street-wise, rough, bristling exterior was a guy who had been through a tragedy that rivaled the worst of tragedies. It was moments like these, moments where Zeb let that exterior fall, that the crew of the _Ghost_ were uniquely privileged to see. The Lasat didn't allow just anyone to see it. The rest of the _Ghost_ crew knew it, too. Sabine put a comforting hand on Zeb's shoulder and Ezra gave Zeb an apologetic look. Even Chopper gave a series of noises that sounded empathetic.

And Zeb's explanation made perfect sense to her, too. As she ran a hand across Kanan's forehead, moving a few loose strands of hair out of his face, she recalled several times where she had all but lost herself in the heat of a stressful flight. Battle fury, as Zeb called it, obviously took many forms.

It wasn't too much longer before Ahsoka returned with a few medics in tow. Reluctantly, the _Ghost_ crew backed off, allowing them to help their leader. Hera stuck particularly close to Erza who looked more distressed about the situation than any of the others. She wasn't surprised to see Zeb wordlessly but undauntedly muscle in and take one end of the stretcher the medics had brought, giving the medics themselves a rather proprietary look.

"You should get looked at, too," Hera said to Ezra. He looked up at her in confusion. "This looks like it hurts," she said by way of explanation, carefully running a finger on the two slashes that were on his left cheek.

Ezra gave a tiny hiss and reached up to feel the injury himself. "Oh yeah," he said, "think it'll scar?"

"If it does, don't worry," Sabine, gently but brightly. It was her way of offering reassurance. "All the best chicks dig the badass-looking scars. And that is an 'I've been in a fight, so don't mess with me' scar. Trust me."

Ezra's face dissolved into a somewhat goofy grin and Hera knew that he was about to say something that he thought was clever, but was probably really lame. She decided to save him that. "C'mon, let's go," she said ushering Ezra toward the ladder to the cargo hold.

"Chop and I will look after the ship," Sabine said as they descended. Chopper gave a trill of agreement.

"Thanks," Hera called back up to them, "and make sure to run a diagnostic on the _Phantom_ , too." After that, she turned her attention back to ushering Ezra along after Kanan, Zeb, Ahsoka, and the medics.

* * *

The medics had wanted Hera to wait elsewhere, but she was having none of it. They _really_ wanted Zeb elsewhere and kept giving him nervous glances. For their sake, Hera finally convinced Zeb that he was doing more harm than good by hovering and that Sabine and Chopper needed a hand. Reluctantly, the Lasat sulked off, but only after Hera promised that someone would be sent with news as soon as it was available.

Most of the medics were hovering around Kanan, a male Human directing them. One medic, a woman, had been assigned to look at Ezra's face. Hera stayed close to Ezra, but always kept an eye on what was happening around Kanan.

"Well, you're a lucky young man," the medic said to Ezra, "it looks like the cut cauterized, so you won't need any stitches. It just needs to be cleaned and covered for a while so it can heal up. You'll have a scar, unfortunately, but they'll just be these two little, straight lines."

"They make me look like a badass?" Ezra said, with a smooth charm that belied his scant fifteen years.

The medic chuckled and smiled. "They do! I know I wouldn't want to mess with you. And besides, chicks dig scars."

"So I've been told," Ezra replied, "so... you ever meet a Jedi before?"

"Whoa, slow down!" the medic said, putting her hands out in front of her. "If you were ten years older, and I wasn't already married, maybe. Besides, last I heard Jedi aren't allowed." She gave Ezra a wink and then wandered away to retrieve some bandages.

"What!?" Ezra exclaimed. "Kanan never told me that!"

Perplexed, Hera found her mouth moving before she could stop it. "Me neither," she said. Ezra's head whipped around to look at her and she felt her face color. She looked away and cleared her throat. Ezra grinned, but didn't press.

Mercifully, before anything could come of _that_ exchange, the head medic came their way. Hera and Ezra both sobered.

"How is he?" Hera asked as soon as he was close enough.

"Well," the medic said, "some good and some bad. His fever is at 103. If it goes any higher, we're going to need to take steps to bring it down. He's dehydrated and malnourished. There's remnants of several rather nasty drugs in his system, which aren't helping with being able to treat him. Numerous contusions, including a rather nice knot on his head. One bruised rib. And some burn marks we can't identify."

"Electricity," Ezra said, "I saw in the room they were keeping him. They were torturing him." The boy cast his eyes downward, as if to have said it somehow had allowed it to continue.

The medic swallowed uncomfortably and made a few notes on his tablet. "We'll need to check for some of the after effects of that, then, once he wakes up. To tell you the truth, he's bad enough off that if we had the facilities here, I'd have him in Bacta submersion. As it stands, we'll have to make due with localized applications."

"I'm not sure I see the good news in all of that," Hera said, looking at the medic and desperately hoping that was the last of the bad.

"Well, on the up side," the medic continued, "none of this looks to be life-threatening or like it will leave any permanent damage. We'll monitor the fever, of course, but, all he should need is time to heal."

"We'll make sure he gets that," Hera agreed, "even if we have to tie him down. When can we see him?"

"The rest of the medics are just finishing up," the head medic said, "you're welcome to stay, if you would like, but he's not likely to be awake any... time... soon?" He trailed off, looking at something over Hera's shoulder. Confused by this, both Hera and Ezra turned around to see what the medic was looking at.

Over a table near the wall, floating up into the air, a set of bottles and instruments were hovering and slowly wandering through the room. Hera glanced askance at Ezra who pointed to himself and shook his head. Other objects around the room began to lift off of shelves and racks, starting to cause a clatter as they started to crowd each other in the open air.

"Uh oh," Hera breathed as the three of them slowly turned back to look at Kanan.

One last medic was frantically checking readouts and making sure the nano-IV on Kanan's wrist was properly connected. Kanan was tossing and mumbling incoherently in fever. The medic was trying to calm him down but wasn't having much luck as she had to dodge objects flying around the room with increasing speed.

"This, I'm not sure what to do about," the head medic admitted wryly as he and Hera, and Ezra made their way over to Kanan, dodging flying objects as they went.

Hera immediately put her hands on either side of Kanan's face. "Kanan!" she called to him, trying to do so gently, but having to dodge and weave. "Kanan, you can calm down! It's all right!"

"Whoa! That was something sharp!" Ezra exclaimed, dodging something that had flown a little too close. He grabbed his lightsaber from his belt and ignited it, positioning himself where he could cover Hera. The head medic had been unable to get close and had retreated to hiding under a table. The rest of the medics had fled the room entirely.

Hera kept her focus on Kanan, running one hand over his hair and the other trying to be a calming point of contact wherever she could settle it. Kanan flinched away from her touch as if it was burning him. "No!" he muttered over and over. "Why are you doing this? Master! They're going to kill us!"

"We need to wake him up!" Hera called across the room to the head medic who just shrugged in panic. "Ezra?" she asked, looking at the boy.

"Kinda busy, here!" he called back, slashing objects out of dangerous trajectories.

The door to the infirmary opened a moment later and Ahsoka sailed through the door, dodging items like she had been able to see through the wall. He own lightsaber was in her hand, glowing white, and she made her way over to stand next to Ezra and add to his cover.

"He's more than just dreaming," she told Hera, "he's reaching into the Force from his subconscious."

"This must have come up back in the day!" Hera exclaimed. "How did the Jedi deal with this?"

"Jedi healers could heal through the Force as well as with medicine," Ahsoka answered, deflecting a bottle which shattered and sprayed its contents as it passed, "the Force healing calmed and healed the mind and guided the subconscious while the medicine healed the body."

"Please tell me you can do that!" Ezra pleaded.

"Not alone," Ahsoka answered, "I never specifically studied it. I need your help, Ezra."

" _I_ don't know how to do it!" Ezra exclaimed.

"I need you to lead me in," Ahsoka answered, "he's your master. You have a unique connection to him through the Force. Reach out to him."

"What about all the stuff flying around the room?"

"Use your senses to avoid it," Ahsoka answered, then she looked over at Hera. "We won't be able to cover you. Get down!"

Casting one more gaze to Kanan's troubled features, and almost hesitating truth be told, Hera finally tore herself away from him and ducked down under the side of the hospital bed. Objects careened freely only a foot above her and she heard the sound of two lightsabers being switched off.

"Reach out to him, Ezra," Ahsoka ordered, "I'll be right along side you."

Right then, Hera longed for the sixth sense, the sensitivity to the Force, that Ezra and Ahsoka had. She would have given anything to be able to reach out to Kanan, lend him her strength. As it was, she felt disconnected from what was happening, out in the cold. Unable to stand it, she carefully reached up and grasped on to one of Kanan's hands. To her surprise, she felt him grasp hers back.

Gradually, Hera heard the clatter of objects hitting the floor and coming to rest. The frenetic energy that was swirling about the room slowly died down and for just a moment, she thought she felt a presence in her own mind, just the faintest whisper.

Finally, the room was silent. Cautiously, Hera poked her head up above Kanan's bed and looked over to Ezra and Ahsoka. They had their hands outstretched toward Kanan and their eyes closed in calm concentration. Kanan had calmed, though he was still mumbling something she couldn't quite make out.

"He's remembering," Ezra said, absently, "it's the time when his master was killed by the clones."

"It is a wound that has recently been reopened," Ahsoka said, "stay with him, Ezra. He needs your strength." She opened her eyes and lowered her hand.

Ezra nodded at her, still concentrating. Slowly, carefully, he found a nearby chair and pulled it next to Kanan's bed, lighting in it. He settled into a relaxed pose, his attention still on Kanan.

"Hera," Ahsoka said, turning troubled eyes to look over at the Twi'lek, "it wasn't just physical torture."

Hera felt her heart break. They had gotten to him, then. They had used the worst moment in his life, the horrible betrayal of the clones and the death of his master, when he had gone from a boy destined for greatness to a terrified fugitive on the run. She grasped his hand tighter and leaned in to rest her forehead on his.

It was all she could do.

* * *

Hours upon hours passed by. Hera didn't leave the infirmary. Several of the medics tried to coax her to get some rest, but she ardently refused. Finally, the medics convinced her to at least lay down for a while on one of the other beds they had. Even then, she slept lightly, snapping her eyes open at anything that even remotely sounded like it could be Kanan's voice. Finally, about eighteen hours later, she fell into a proper sleep.

Zeb and Sabine kept taking turns coming to the infirmary to check on Kanan every few hours. They would hover for a little while, then get restless and need to leave. At some point Chopper ended up in the rotation, too, though it was evident that it was trying not to show how concerned it actually was, like some kinda tough guy.

Ezra and Ahsoka were both near at hand, each of them at intervals working through the Force to keep Kanan's fever dreams from getting too terrible. Ezra was on shift right now, sitting next to Kanan and keeping his senses open to the Force that surrounded his master. Every once in a while, he felt, or thought he felt, something reaching back to him.

The lights were low, so it was a bit of surprise when the door to the infirmary opened and Ahsoka entered. Careful to keep his focus on Kanan, Ezra looked up at her and gave a signal to stay quiet, nodding in Hera's direction. Ahsoka gave a small smile and nodded her understanding as she walked over to where Ezra was sitting.

"You're early," Ezra said, softly, as she placed another chair next to his and sat, "I've still got another hour."

"Actually, I was hoping to speak with you for a while," she said, "it's been a long time since I had anyone who could feel the things that I can feel, who can understand it." She cast her gaze to Kanan. "How is he doing?"

"Calm for right now," Ezra answered, "he had another nightmare earlier, but it was short this time. And they're getting fewer and farther between."

"Good," said Ahsoka, "it means that he is healing. Hopefully, he'll wake up by morning. He's lucky to have you, Ezra."

"I'm lucky to have _him_ ," Ezra replied, "I mean, if he hadn't come along, I'd still be a street loth-rat with weirdly accurate intuition. And I'd still be a brat just looking out for number one. Kanan, and all the others; they made me a completely different person, a _better_ person. When the Empire had him... I was almost out of my mind. I guess that's why I reacted like I did, before. I suppose I owe you an apology."

"It's all right," Ahsoka replied, "it's been so long since I had that connection to my master, I sort of forgot what it could be like. I should have trod more softly. But something is puzzling. I didn't recall Kanan's name from my days at the Jedi Temple. We would have been only a few years apart. Who was his master?"

"Depa Billaba."

Ahsoka put a hand to her chin in thought. "But Master Billaba's Padawan was named... Oh. I see."

"What?"

"It's like you said," Ahsoka replied, "sometimes people turn into other people. It seems your master has experience in the matter."

"So Kanan has another _name_? What is it?"

Ahsoka looked over at Ezra with a sad smile. "That secret is not mine to tell," she said, "perhaps he will tell you some day. But your master is Kanan Jarrus and you can be assured that this is the real him, now."

"I don't really understand," Ezra said, shaking his head a little, "but you're right. I know I can trust him to be the person I know."

"Then the rest of us can as well," said Ahsoka, "Ezra, you and Kanan are more than just freedom fighters. You two are the one last glimmer of light in the darkness for a great many people. It's possible that you two are all that remains of the Jedi Order. Certainly you're the only ones that have shown themselves at all. If there are any more out there, perhaps they will step forward when they hear of you. But until then, you are the only hope for the rebellion."

"So, no pressure then, right?" Ezra said, dourly. "Well, if that's what we need to be to beat the Empire, then I guess that's what I'll be."

"You already have been. Your parents would be proud."

"Thanks," Ezra said, "I think they would have liked you."

Ahsoka gave a soft laugh. "That's the best compliment I've had in ages," she said, "I know it's early, but if you want to get some rest, I can take over."

"No, I think I want to stay for a few more hours," Ezra replied, "but... you can stay too, if you want."

"I take it back," Ahsoka said, settling back into her chair a little bit more, " _that's_ the best compliment I've had in ages."

Ezra felt a gentle rush as Ahsoka opened herself to the Force. He could feel her following his link back to Kanan and add her calm to the mix. Only this time, it didn't feel like an intrusion to Ezra. It felt more like the presence of a friend.

* * *

Six more hours passed before Kanan's fever finally broke. Two more after that before he actually began to stir and wake up. Ahsoka was the only one in the infirmary awake at the time. Ezra had curled up in the chair he had been sitting in and Hera was still asleep on the other bed. Ahsoka was loathe to wake either of them, but she knew they would never forgive her if she didn't. So, as she felt Kanan's consciousness beginning to surface in the Force, she left her seat and went over to Hera, shaking the Twi'lek gently on the shoulder.

Hera snapped awake and began to sit up in surprise, but sobered when she remembered where she was and recognized the former Jedi.

"He's waking up," Ahsoka told Hera.

That was enough to make Hera practically leap out of the bed and rush over to Kanan. She took hold of his hand as he was stirring, seemingly trying to resist waking up. "C'mon, luv," she said, "time to open those eyes."

Kanan's face turned toward her voice and slowly his eyelids fluttered open. His eyes took a moment to focus on her and then he let out a sigh of relief. "Thank the Force," he mumbled, "for a second there, I was worried I was waking up back on Tarkin's carrier." He gave a star-crossed smile. "I like this view a lot better."

"You're still delirious," Hera answered with a giggle.

"Whatever keeps me looking at this view," he replied, then turned his attention to Ahsoka, "how long have I been out?"

"More than a day," Ahsoka answered, "how are you feeling?"

Kanan gave a groan and leaned his head back into his pillow. "Everything hurts," he admitted, "I was pretty lost for a while, there. Thanks for sticking around with me, you and Ezra." He picked his head up off the pillow, puzzled. "Where _is_ Ezra?"

With a smile, Ahoska, stepped aside and indicated Ezra's curled up form on the nearby chair. "Neither one of these two have left your side for a minute," she said, "and Zeb and Sabine have been in here almost every hour on the hour making nuisances of themselves."

Kanan colored a little, giving a bit of a self-conscious laugh. Lifting an arm that felt like lead, Kanan reached over and poked at Ezra's shoulder. "Hey, kid," he said, his voice a little raspy.

Ezra shot awake, nearly falling off the chair before his eyes settled on Kanan. His face brightened immediately. "Kanan!" he exclaimed, launching himself at the elder Jedi and wrapping himself around his chest.

"Ow!" Kanan groaned out, but made no move to dislodge his Padawan. "Oh yeah, that's a busted rib."

"Oops!" said Ezra, immediately letting go and backing off, running a hand through his hair. "Sorry. I'm glad your awake, Master."

"I'm glad you're here, Padawan."

Ezra's eyes widened a moment later, as some thought or another percolated through his head. "Zeb! He said I better come get him the minute you wake up or he'll pull my arms off!" He then scampered out the door as fast as his legs would carry him.

"Guess we know where we rank," Kanan said, looking over to Hera. She laughed in response.

"The medics said they needed to check on a few things after you woke up," said Ahsoka, heading for the door. She turned back to them just before exiting and gave a wink. "But, you know, they can get busy. It might take some time."

As soon as the door had closed behind Ahsoka, Hera leaned in and rested her forehead against Kanan's. "I was so afraid that we couldn't ever get you back," she said.

"I know," Kanan replied, resting a hand on her cheek, "I was too. But, I was ready to give my life for all of you. I was also hoping you wouldn't put yourselves in harm's way on the off chance you could get me out of there. But, I'm still glad you did."

"Please don't ever do this to me again."

"I wish I could promise that," he said with a sigh, "but you know I can't. You, Ezra, Zeb, Sabine... even Chopper, really. You mean everything to me."

"I know, but I just had to say it," Hera said.

They had another few minutes of blissfully silent companionship before "the kids" all came stomping back into the infirmary in one large group. They clustered around Kanan, all talking over each other and mother henning him. At one point, Hera saw the door to the infirmary open for a moment and the head medic make to enter, but just as quickly, Ahsoka was pushing him past the door, giving Hera a nod as she went. She was making sure they had their space for a while. Hera gave her a grateful nod back, then returned her attentions to her chosen family.

Because they were home and whole again.

* * *

Wow, this one ended up so much longer than the others, almost twice as long! Guess the guys had a lot to say. Though, this is probably my favorite so far. I know this wasn't really a head-injury, per se. I slipped the bump on Kanan's head in since he did get a little stunned just before Ezra fell to the lower bridge. I guess you could say the head-injury in this one is most psychological. Yeah, that makes it legit, right? Right?

I intend to do one of these for Siege of Lothal, but the imagery hasn't quite gelled for that one, just yet. Zeb has been rattling around in my brain a little, though, so he might get some time in the sun. Also, fitting it in is a little problematic, since so much happens after it. I guess I'll just need to watch the episode again. Oh. Darn.

Starlight Moon Midnight: I'm so glad you're enjoying the flooffiness as much as I am! These guys just exude floof! I want to hug them all!

Kayla103849: Hope this was fast enough for ya! But mostly, I hope you enjoyed it! :-)

BrokenLittleDove: I know, right!? It's one of the best things about fandom. We can all get together and nerd out about this stuff!

Thanks for reading everyone and for your great reviews! They make me warm and fuzzy! Until next time!


	4. Siege of Lothal

Kanan wasn't at 100% yet. Zeb could tell. The ordeal at Mustafar had taken a larger toll on the Jedi than he had admitted. The medics aboard _Phoenix Home_ had cleared him for action again, of course, but Kanan's speed and power just wasn't all there, yet. Kanan could certainly go toe-to-toe with just about anyone, himself included. But Zeb knew he was capable of more. He had seen it.

So when the Sith Lord sent Kanan flying across the tarmac with a gesture and Zeb saw him collide head-first with a large, metal crate, he was concerned. And when the Jedi bonelessly slid to the ground and laid in an unmoving heap, he was genuinely alarmed. Ezra, too, was in trouble, pinned to a pylon almost like a flitter-fly to a board, his arms shaking as he tried to resist the blue blade of his own lightsaber moving toward his throat.

Zeb's instinct was to make a move for the two Jedi, to defend them, but the continuous blaster fire from the Stormtroopers made that impossible. As it was, Zeb could only crouch next to Sabine on the lowered ramp of the shuttle they were trying to pilfer, firing off blast after blast from his bo-rifle. It was an agonizingly long time before Kanan had moved again, somehow saving Ezra. He was sluggish, though, and the fight cost him a blow to his shoulder armor.

In the end, though, they had all managed to make it into the shuttle, relatively safely. Kanan was nursing his injured arm and Sabine had taken a pot shot to the noggin from one of the bucket-heads, but somehow no one was seriously hurt.

And then the conversation turned to how they were going to get off Lothal. They had managed to steal the shuttle, sure, but a blockade had formed around the planet that the craft just wasn't capable of running. Bottom line, they needed help and Hera had made a suggestion.

"Not him!" Kanan and Ezra had chorused, protesting vehemently.

"We need someone sneaky and underhanded," Hera had reasoned, "I can't think of anyone more suited who would also look the other way."

Kanan gave a growl in the back of his throat and leaned back against the hull of the ship. "I don't like him," he said, petulantly.

"Gee, love, I can't imagine why _that_ would be," Hera said, her voice dripping with sarcasm and she gave a quick wink to the Jedi.

"Wait," Zeb ventured into the conversation, "just who are we talking about here."

"Only the best smuggler with contacts and resources on all of Lothal," Hera replied, "Lando Calrissian."

Zeb growled at the name and the memory of a sabacc game that had led to a horrible misadventure. He never wanted to deal with that man again.

"That low-life, double-dealing, nerf-herding, cheat?" Zeb asked, incredulously. "I'm with these two," he told Hera, indicating Kanan and Ezra, "not him."

"Well, I don't think we have much of a choice," Hera said with a sigh, "if we want to get off of Lothal without getting blown up, we need his help. So you boys are just going to have to swallow your wounded pride."

For Hera, it seemed the conversation was over. She turned toward the shuttle cockpit and made her way toward the controls there.

"Hera, if we have to do this," Kanan said, shooting to his feet and making to follow her, "then let's at least..." He had only taken a single step before all the color drained from his face and he trailed of, shaking his head. He weaved back and forth a little, putting a hand to his left temple.

"Kanan?" Ezra asked.

"I'm fine," Kanan said, with another shake of his head. Impossibly his face went even more white.

Zeb rolled his eyes and covered the distance to the Jedi in a single step. "No, you're not," he said, giving a light punch to Kanan's left shoulder to turn him so that his back was to the seat he had just vacated. He then pressed down on both of Kanan's shoulders, shoving him back into the seat. "Siddown before you _fall_ down. Karabast!"

Kanan gave a wince and sucked air through clenched teeth, cradling his right arm at the elbow.

"You whammed your head and got your shoulder burned with a lightsaber," Zeb growled, leaning inward to take a look at the purpling bruise on the left side of Kanan's face, "take a sec, for stars' sake."

"Aw back off, Zeb," Kanan said, pushing on the Lasat's forehead with his left hand, "your breath stinks."

Putting both his hands on his hips, Zeb leaned back in and got even closer to Kanan. He gave a growl and bared his teeth, just a little. It seemed to have the desired effect, as Kanan threw up his hands in defense, his eyes going a little wide and mouth twisting into a nervous grin. When he was sure that the Jedi wasn't going to go anywhere, Zeb looked over to Ezra.

"Hey, kid," he said, "go find Sabine and give her a hand."

"Do you even know what she's doing?" Ezra shot back. This earned him a growl from the Lasat. "Okay, okay," Ezra said, shooting to his feet and backing away from Zeb's glare, "finding Sabine. Geeze!"

Zeb watched Ezra climb the ladder to the upper deck, where Sabine had disappeared to. As soon as he was sure no one else was in ear-shot, he turned his attention back to Kanan. "You are an idiot," he said, punctuating his words by poking Kanan first in the right shoulder, then in the forehead. Kanan barely suppressed yelps at the not-so-gentle treatment.

"Would you knock it off!" Kanan exclaimed.

"Off with the armor," Zeb commanded.

"Zeb, it's just a-"

"Now."

With an overly-dramatic roll of his eyes, Kanan capitulated and released the buckle of the strap that held his armor in place. As soon as the shoulder pieces were loosened, Zeb helped him tug off the black sleeve to which the rest of the armor was attached. The Jedi clenched his teeth down on some pained noises the whole way. Beneath it, the sleeve of Kanan's shirt had a fresh hole in it, singed at the edges, revealing a patch of red and blistered skin.

"See? The armor took most of it," Kanan said, "it's just a small burn, no big deal."

Zeb looking at him, skeptically, raising an eyebrow and scowling. Just who did Kanan think he was, anyway? The Immortal Keleth of Lirasan? Zeb certainly didn't put much stock in those old fairy tales and he was just as convinced that the Force didn't even come _close_ to making Kanan invincible, either.

To prove his point, Zeb poked at one of the blisters with one claw. It popped, leaking a bit of pus, and Kanan gave a yelp.

"Hey!" Kanan exclaimed, clamping his other hand around his bicep. "Zeb, don't ever going into medicine."

"That's getting cleaned and wrapped," Zeb said, stabbing a finger at Kanan's chest, then turned to find the shuttle's first aid cabinet, "and you're not gonna give me any guff about it." He pulled open the cabinet and grabbed some antiseptic, a bottle of bacta, and some bandages. "And then I'm looking at that knot on your head." He made his way back over to Kanan and sat down on the seat to the Jedi's right.

Kanan clearly decided that he didn't have any choice in the matter any longer. As Zeb rolled back his shirt sleeve and began to dab antiseptic on the burn, the Jedi barely made any more noises of discontent. Zeb was just applying a pad with bacta on it and beginning to wrap it when Kanan gave a sigh.

"I wish you'd all stop doing this," he muttered.

"Stop what?" Zeb growled back. "Patching you up? Forget it. I'm not entertaining your death wish."

"Wha...? I don't have a death wish!"

"You sure have a funny way of showin' it."

"Oh, what was I supposed to do, Zeb? Let Ezra get decapitated by a Sith Lord?"

"That ain't what I mean and you know it," Zeb said, fastening down the bandage a little more firmly than was _strictly_ necessary. "Ever since Mustafar, you've been taking stupid risks."

"Hate to break it to you, Zeb," Kanan replied, "but there's nothing that _isn't_ risky about the Sith."

"I don't mean that either!" Zeb snapped back. He poked at the sore spot on Kanan's head. "I mean this!"

"Ow!" Kanan yelped again.

"You don't take care of yourself," Zeb said, "you get hurt, you wave it off or try to hide it. And you and I both know you're still not at 100%, yet. You don't just get over a busted rib and electrocution in two weeks." He took the antiseptic and the bandages back over to the first aid kit and put them away.

"I'm not frail!' Kanan shot back. "Ever since Mustafar, you've all been treating me like glass! Enough is en-"

"Because Mustafar scared the crap out of us, Kanan!" Zeb shouted, wheeling back around, his tufts of purple fur standing on end.

The outburst shocked Kanan into silence, his eyes widening. As the last of the last of the reverberation from Zeb's voice bled away into the air, the Jedi's eyes slid away from the Lasat and he bit his lower lip a little, looking a bit guilty. It chased away a little bit of the anger that Zeb was feeling.

"It scared the crap out of me," he said, much more gently. With a sigh, he wandered back over to the seats and plopped down into the one next to Kanan. "I don't _do_ scared."

There was a long moment of silence between them, neither daring to speak or even look at each other. The only sound was a hum of the shuttle's engine.

"Stupid, isn't it?" Zeb finally mumbled.

Kanan looked askance at him, still not daring to speak.

"This funny little group of misfits," Zeb went on, "each and every one of us more than a little bit broken inside. Look at us. There's no way we should work. We're just a random bunch of weirdos. But somehow..."

"It just does," Kanan finished.

"It just does," Zeb agreed. He sighed again, rubbing the back of his head, self-consciously. "No kidding, Kanan," he continued, "Mustafar scared me, more than I have been since Lasan fell. And not just because the Empire had you for four days. Ezra hardly slept, Hera wouldn't eat, and for the first time ever I saw Sabine cry. One of us falls, the rest of us unravel. Simple as that."

There was silence again. This time it was Kanan who broke it.

"And you?" he asked, his eyes not leaving the floor.

Zeb groaned inwardly. Leave it to a Jedi to dig at the thing that made him the most embarrassed. His hand drifted down to the back of his neck and he found that he could only look at the ceiling.

"I... I felt like the Empire had my brother," he finally managed out.

When there wasn't an answer, he risked a glance back at Kanan. The Jedi was staring up at him with a weird look somewhere between sad and joyous, but also a little amused.

"What?" Zeb asked. "Don't look at me like that, I'm serious."

Kanan obliged, looking back down to the floor. "I know," he said, softly.

"I mean, I never had a real brother before," Zeb babbled on, "just the rest of the Honor Guard, right? And... and you an' me-"

"Zeb?"

"What?"

"Shut up and look at my head already, would ya?" Kanan said, not bitingly and with a soft smile. "I think it's bleeding."

"Oh," said Zeb, "right. Right. Um, here." He reached for the left side of Kanan's head, now getting no resistance from the Jedi. "Where is it anyway?" he asked, beginning to poke around the edges of the bruise.

"Ow!" Kanan exclaimed, jumping a bit when Zeb pressed on a tender spot. "Careful!"

"Oh, stop squirming, you big baby!" Zeb shot back.

"It hurt!"

"It wouldn't if you'd stop squirming!"

"Maybe I should get Hera."

"Don't even _think_ about moving!"

* * *

Aww... isn't Zeb just all kinds of warm and fuzzy on the inside?

Zeb is a bit of an odd duck in my head. I keep waffling back and forth between him being "one of the kids" and "the crazy uncle." So often in the series he acts like a big kid, then a tough guy, then an angsty survivor of horrors. He's really a wonderfully written character. I imagine he would give the best hugs.

A Princess on Lothal is likely to be up next. I want to do one from Sabine's point of view, but she's been difficult for me to pin down, so we'll see if it works out.

Thanks for reading!


	5. Future of the Force

"Well, I guess that falls to us now," Kanan said, turning his attention back to the controls of the _Phantom_ , looking like just a little bit more of the weight of the world had landed on his shoulders.

In the cabin, Ezra, Zeb, and Chopper seemed oblivious to the revalation they had just been privvy to. Chopper spun gingerly, the two precious bundles cradled in its manipulators. The two infants gave coos of delight at their impromptu carosel ride. Zeb plopped himself down on one of the fold-out seats, looking tired and somehow both old and young at the same time.

The _Phantom_ made the jump into hyperspace a few moments later and Ahsoka turned her attention back to Kanan as she heard him give a sigh. He leaned back in the pilot's seat, squeezing his eyes closed and rubbing the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger.

"You really saved our butts back there," he said to her, leaning his head back against the headrest and keeping his eyes closed, "where'd you learn those moves, anyway?"

"Well, when you have to keep up with Anakin Skywalker during the Clone Wars, you learn a thing or two," she replied, giving a wry smile.

"Wish I'd been able to meet him," Kanan said, "Master Depa was always going on about the crazy stuff he did."

"If she was like any of the rest of the Council, she probably complained about his puffer-pig-headded stubborness and his doshing recklessness."

"Not in so many words, but yeah," Kanan said with a chuckle, "sounds like he was my kinda guy."

"Well, if it's any comfort, Sky-guy would have liked you," Ahsoka replied.

"That is a compliment, right?"

Ahsoka gave a laugh, leaning against the bulkhead and casting her glance back toward the other members of the motley crew in the back. She sobered somewhat, watching as Ezra, Zeb, Chopper, and Uura collectively settled the two infants into a peaceful sleep.

"Realistically though," she mused with a sigh, "we were lucky to hear about these two. I don't think we can count on being able to save too many more younglings from the Inquisitors."

"You're probably right," Kanan agreed with a sigh, turning the pilot's seat to look at her, "would've been something though; find a quiet little out-of-the-way world on the outer rim, re-start the Jedi Order from the ground up. Let the rest of the galaxy duke it out amongst themselves." He cut himself off with a grimace, once again squeezing his eyes closed and rubbing at his temples. Ahsoka couldn't help but notice that he looked a little peaked.

"You and Ezra and Zeb were down for the count for a while back there," Ahsoka stated, cautiously, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder, "maybe we should check you three over."

"Nah, I get knocked in the head all the time," Kanan drawled, waving it off, "besides, Zeb was down longer than I was."

"Zeb isn't the one who's face just turned pale and who's struggling to keep his eyes open," Ahsoka replied.

"No, he's just the one who's passed out entirely," Kanan cracked back, chucking a thumb over his shoulder. Ahsoka turned to look back into the cabin. Sure enough, the Lasat had his head back against the bulkhead, eyes closed and his mouth open just slightly, a soft rumble emitting from his nose.

"Kanan," Ahsoka said with a sigh, turning back to the Jedi. She was about to launch into an attempt to make him see reason when Ezra came up next to her, still cradling the sleeping Alora.

"Something wrong?" he asked with concern, keeping his voice low.

"Your master is just being stubborn," Ahsoka replied.

"What else is new?"

"My head is fine," Kanan grumbled, turning his focus back to the cockpit controls as if there was something important there to monitor, "it wasn't that bad."

Ezra gave a scowl, looking at Kanan with a critical eye. Ahsoka felt just a short breath of cold come from the boy; the feel of worry in the Force. Carefully, he handed Alora off to Ahsoka and then moved to lean on the console so he could see Kanan. He looked at his master for a moment, then his scowl deepened and he crossed his arms over his chest, giving Kanan a look that spoke volumes.

 _Either come with me or I let Ahsoka keep harrassing you._

Still, Kanan's stubborness persisted.

"What?" he asked with a long-suffering sigh.

"Do you _really_ want me to tell Hera that you have a post-head-trauma migraine again?" Ezra cracked.

"Ah, you don't play fair," Kanan groused, letting his head fall back against the headrest of the seat again.

"And where do you think I learned that, Master?" Ezra replied, grinning pointedly. Ahsoka couldn't help but chuckle.

"Oh fine," Kanan said with a roll of his eyes. Heavily, he got up from the pilot's seat and turned toward the back of the shuttle. "Ahsoka, could you...?" He waved absently toward the console.

"I think the two of us can fill in for a little while," she replied, shifting the tiny bundle in her arms a little and slipping past him to take the seat.

Kanan swayed a bit on his feet, his eyes wandering slightly to try and find focus. Ezra was at his elbow, already leading him slowly aft. She tried not to pry as she heard them going about their business behind her. Even so, she still felt tiny spikes of cold come darting out from the boy every time Kanan made a sound of discomfort. It was after a particularly sharp one that she felt a warm rush in the Force from Kanan, accompanied by his voice, sounding a little urgent himself.

"Ezra," he said, keeping his voice as gentle as he could, "I'm fine, really. I'm not going anywhere."

Ahsoka couldn't help but sneak a look back at them. Kanan had leaned forward from his fold-out seat and placed a comforting hand on Ezra's shoulder. They stood like that for a long moment and Ahsoka could sense the cold ebbing away, carried off on a warm tide of assurance.

The two of them certainly had a special bond to each other, she mused, turning her attention forward again. She remembered what that was like, even yearned to feel it again herself. But her bond to Anakin had long-since faded. She had started that separation herself when she left the Jedi Order. And when everything in the galaxy had changed, she remembered feeling the last tiny shred of it suddenly go out like a dying ember, to be replaced by a cold, dead spot in her heart.

She had never learned what had happened to Anakin. But the vicious stab of cold she had felt from the Sith Lord months ago had landed right in that very spot. It made her wonder if...

With a sigh, Ahsoka shook herself out of reverie. No, it was an old attachment, long gone. But she couldn't help but miss it, feel just a little angry that it wasn't there any more. That, she supposed, more than anything, made her no longer a Jedi.

She only hoped that Kanan and Ezra could overcome their attachment to each other as well, when the time came; better than she had failed to completely overcome her attachment to Anakin. Otherwise, the Jedi Order would truly be gone. And though the cold she could feel from Ezra was now no more than a cool, gentle breeze, it was still there.

* * *

This one is quite a bit shorter than the others. Not really sure that makes the wait worth it, but, this is what finally came to mind. Ahsoka is nothing if not practical, really, when it comes to all of this stuff. It occurred to me a while ago that, while emotional complications from attachment might have been one of the things she wanted to help Kanan and Ezra with, she didn't really know how to, struggling with it herself as much as she did.

Hopefully a scene will come to mind faster for the next one. Still trying to keep these in order of the episodes, so A Princess on Lothal would be next. Legends of Lasan is likely to be equally problematic, since everyone gets knocked out in that one... perspective is a little hard when _everyone_ is unconscious...


End file.
